“No, that isn’t him. Besides, Damon drives a BMW.” She turned to look behind her. “I don’t see him.”
“Five cars back. I’ll turn the corner up here, see if he follows. Don’t let him catch you looking.”
She flipped down the sun visor and used the mirror to watch the traffic as Josh turned the corner. “There he is! The Buick just turned the corner behind us.”
“It’s not Damon but there’s a good chance it’s someone working for him.”
“I think that’s how he found me in Carlsbad. I think he hired a private investigator.”
Josh’s features hardened. “Guy wants to know where we’re going? Let’s let him find out.”
Tory sat back in the seat, her nerves strung taut. Josh slowed as they approached the Marriott, slowed even more as they pulled into the parking lot, letting the Buick get even closer.
“Plate number’s AKJ1302,” he said.
Tory memorized the number. “Maybe we can find out who the car belongs to.”
“Oh, we can find out.” Josh pulled the Jeep into a space, turned off the engine, and both of them climbed out. “Might be able to speed things up.”
They walked into the lobby of the hotel. “Go on up to the room. I’ll be along in a minute.”
Tory stopped. “Wait a minute—what are you going to do?”
“If Bridger hired this guy to keep track of you, his job isn’t finished yet.”
As if Josh had a crystal ball, Tory looked through the glass front doors to see the Buick pulling into the parking lot. They both stepped back so the driver wouldn’t see them, watched him park in a space where he could watch the entrance to the hotel.
Something appeared in the window of the car. “What’s he doing?” Tory asked.
“Taking pictures. Stay here. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Josh headed down the hall and disappeared out one of the side doors. Tory stayed out of sight next to the big glass window in the lobby. Across the room, the desk clerk stood behind the counter, checking in another couple.
Tory looked back out the window, catching a glimpse of Josh at the rear of the parking lot before he disappeared between a pair of parked cars. Except for the lights illuminating the parking lot, it was too dark to keep track of him.
She almost smiled. If Josh didn’t want to be seen, she probably couldn’t spot him even in the daylight.
She spotted him a couple of times as he cut a path toward the Buick, moving in that silent way he had that seemed almost ghostly.
The next thing she knew, the door of the Buick shot open and the driver flew out of the car. One of Josh’s big hands clamped around his neck and the camera went flying, landing on the pavement, rolling a couple of feet before it came to a stop. Josh backed the guy up against the car.
Tory gripped the purse slung over her shoulder and flew out the hotel’s front door.
With his hand wrapped around the guy’s throat, Josh shook him like the rat he was. “Who the hell are you? I want your name and I want it now.”
“Hey, buddy, take it easy, okay?” The guy tried to pry Josh’s fingers away but there was no chance of that.
“No, it’s not okay. You’ve been watching us all day. Who are you?”
When he didn’t answer, Josh shook him again. “This is going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better.”
“All right, okay. My name is Floyd Wickham. I’m a private investigator.” From the looks of the faded old Buick, Wickham’s wrinkled khakis, and sweat-stained yellow polo shirt, not the high-dollar variety. “I was hired to keep an eye on a woman named Victoria Bradford. I take it she’s your girlfriend.”
Josh didn’t answer. His relationship with Tory was none of the guy’s business. Besides, he wasn’t sure about it himself.
He let Wickham go but stayed right in his face. From the corner of his eye, he saw Tory running toward them. She stopped a few feet away.
“Who hired you?” Josh asked.
